Clipped Wings
by poolstorybro
Summary: Negan takes Jay as a hostage with intentions far greater than torture. Follow her as she journeys through SURVIVAL and a stomach churning, life changing experience - in more ways than one. Can she cope with a man with many LAYERS and a misunderstood insanity ?
1. Pudding

so I'm super new at this, I hope you guys will like this fic ! The first chapter basically covers S7x01 with my OC slotted in ( aka they won't all be THIS damn long xD ) I run with the faceclaim of Carlson Young, so if you have an issue picturing Jay, then I just painted one for you :) enjoy !

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SHOCK. It _slithered_ up her spine, holding her CAPTIVE on her knees as unseen muscles **constricted** covered skin. They're surrounded and hope is currently on the floor beside her, winded and _whimpering_. Life had just swept in like a fist to the face and knocked them down like a leaf in the wind. **SENSORY OVERLOAD**. She could hear the _intensity_ of everyone's breathing – sharp, fast, raspy. Wild, fawn rings slowly disappear, drowning in black irises as their gaze was thrown around from face to face – body to body. Terror _gripped_ at her ankles like iron shackles, weighing her down upon the arid earth. Fingernails clawed into dirt and she was sure that would be a pain in the ass to clean but her subconscious was telling her there was no way leaving this situation alive was even a concept to **think** about right now.

Soft lips had tightened into a thin line, promising speech to _no one_ as she flicked her gaze to Rick who was beside her and OH GOD even their LEADER was on his knees. There was a knock and now she was staring daggers at the figure who stood in front of the caravan opposite them.

"All right ! We got a full boat. Let's meet the man !"

Did he knock again or was it the sound of her heart _thrumming_ like heavy rain. The sound pounded in her ears and once again all she could hear was the sound of horrified breathing and the threatening click of deadly weapons. The door of the caravan swung open and she caught her breath in her throat – desperate to choke but not wanting to draw attention to herself as she held back the overwhelming need to vomit.

" _Pissin' our pants yet_ ?"

Someone stepped out from within the vehicle and something in her demands her to stand. To **rebel** and **refuse** but she knows _very well_ never to act on her instincts – after _many_ experiences. The one before them stood tall and clearly knew is place. **TOP**.

Always.

"Boy, do I have a feelin' we're gettin' _close_."

Her hands clench to fists and she sat up – straightened her spine. If she was going to die, she wouldn't die _cowering_. Why die at all ? If she distracted them everyone could get away **safely** ! All she needed to do was find somewhere to run without getting _shot_ and—

"Jay, **no** –" Rick's voice is hushed but stern and it felt like she'd been slapped back to her senses. It's as if Rick had just read her mind because she finds herself scowling at his words. But no matter how she hated admitting she was wrong, she was– and Rick had just tripped her before she got to the edge.

It isn't until now that she realised the caravan man was standing over her, _looming_ like a cat at a fish bowl. A Jay was a bird, however, currently she was the fish to this CAT. Ironic how whatever circumstance, she'd _still_ be considered the PREY.

The sickening grin that stretched across the man's face made her **queasy** – nonetheless she still stared him _down_ , chin tilted up to express confidence, even though internally she was curling into a ball to hide herself from his gaze. She felt so _vulnerable_ like this – even with clothing on she felt like he could see straight through her. He looked her up and down several times before once again meeting her own eyes; a single chuckle puffed from his lips.

"Yep, it's gonna be _pee pee pants city_ here REAL soon."

Who the FUCK **was** this guy ? Pee pee pants city—was he for real ?

She flinched when he moved away, stalking the other members of her group, except ? With less _interest_ it seemed.

"Which one'a you pricks is the LEADER ?"

Eyes grew wide and she let her gaze drop to the **floor** – _not at Rick_. **Don't** give him away. But it didn't matter. The man stood behind her spoke out. "It's _this_ one." A finger flicked out and he pointed down at Rick. " **He's** the guy."

Jay met Rick's eyes and she found herself _frowning_ at him. He possessed the eyes of a deer about to be HIT by a car. Terror, anger, confusion—GUILT. She knew he must feel some form of guilt about the situation. Regret about leading them into it unknowingly. But what happened had happened – there was no _changing_ that. She curved her lips at him, only slightly. 'It's okay' – brown hues conveyed so much more than words, a nod of her head given to show respect.

The man that strode towards them obviously picked up on this, clearing his throat which caused Rick to twitch and throw his **full** attention upwards – except this man was certainly no GOD.

"Hi. You're _Rick_ , right ?"

Jay stared at the object in the man's grip – a baseball bat. The shiver ran up her spine again and she had to physically tense to stop it showing. The bat's 'head' was covered in barbed wire and holy shit did that make her stomach churn.

"I'm Negan."

 **NEGAN** . She mentally mouthed the name to herself and raised a brow. Did he not have a _surname_ ? Perhaps he thought they didn't need it as they were just going to get **slaughtered** anyway.

"And I do _not_ appreciate you killin' my MEN. Also – when I _sent_ my people t' **kill** _your_ people f'r killin' **MY** people ? _You_ killed **more** 'a my _people_."

There was a few seconds of silence and she almost jumped when he spoke again.

"Not cool. **Not** fucking _cool_. You have—"

Jay noticed how his grin had VANISHED and his eyes were now slitted, evident **anger** seeping through his gravel tone. The way he _pronounced_ every word and how his shoulders seemed to rise closer to his neck – INTENSE.

"— **no** fuckin' idea how _not_ fucking cool that **shit** is. BUT—I think you're gonna be up t' speed here _shortly_. Yeah. You are **so** gonna regret crossin' me in a few minutes."

That _look_. It was enough to almost PARALYSE Jay and he wasn't even _looking_ at **her**. It spoke volumes of RAGE. Internal – _probably for the best_ – and obviously difficult to contain by the strain that creased his features. Then the smirk grew back like a WEED. " **Fuck** yeah you _are_."

This man wasn't _sane_. Negan – he wasn't sane. Jay was _doubting_ his sanity at first, of course, but the _awesomely_ MANIC switch of expression had **confirmed** it for her.

 _RUN_. **RUN FOR YOUR LIFE** – her mind screamed.

"Y'see Rick, whatever you _do_ , no matter fuckin' **what** , you do not mess with the new world order and the new world order is **this** and it's _really_ very simple even if you're fuckin' _stupid_ – which you _very may well be_ – you can **understand** it. Y' _ready_ ? Here it goes, pay _attention_." Negan's grip on the bat seemed to suddenly loosen and the bat dropped to Rick's face, the end so close – **too** close. Jay's heart was in her _mouth_ as she watched the barbed wire linger **inches** from her leader's nose.

This is it, _you're all gonna die_. This is the end. Say y' prayers, Jay. There's no goin' back now !

She ignored her subconscious, mentally shaking her head as she refused to meet Negan's gaze when he caught her looking.

"Give me your **shit** , or I will _kill_ you." The words left the man's lips slow and heavy—her subconscious was _right_. They **were** going to die ! Oh **god** – oh GOD. There it was, like he'd said, simple– a _promise_ of **instant** death.

 _Who said it would be instant_ ?

 **You're right**. Wait – was she _talking_ to herself now ? Wonderful. But she—her _brain_ ? The voice in her head ( _because that doesn't sound odd at all_ ) was **right** though. No one said it would be _instant_. In fact, any of their worlds could become filled with endless pain at _any_ second and she wouldn't even notice because she was too busy _talking to herself_.

Her eyes flicked up to watch this _Negan asshole_. Observed how his figure slanted backwards, knees bending to signify just how **arrogant** he was. Only someone with incredible _confidence_ and a sensation of somehow **justified** safety could be that free to _expose_ vulnerable parts like that. It was an action that shouted _NOT A CARE IN THE WORLD_.

"T'day was _career_ day—" and he was back to pacing the group like an actor at the edge of a stage. "—we invested a _lot_ so _you_ would know _who I am_ , and **what** I can **do**. You work for **me** now. You _have_ shit ? You give it t' **me**. _That's_ your _job_."

Oh.

Jay risked giving a glance to fellow members of her group for some form of response to the BOLD statement. **Demand** ? She didn't know _what_ to call it. However, the rest of her group were too distracted by the bat bobbing in front of each of their faces.

"Now I know that is—" he exhales. "—a mighty, big, **nasty** pill t' swallow. But _swallow_ it you most _certainly_ motherfuckin' **will**." His GRIN is back and Jay doesn't know how to respond anymore. Were they really expected to just sit and listen like a group of school kids ? It's not like she'd argue but still—

"You _ruled_ the _roost_. You— _built_ something. Y' thought you were _safe_ , I get it. But, the word is _out_. _You_ are **not** safe – not even fuckin' _close_. In fact, _you_ are **fucked**. _More_ fucked if you don't _give_ me _what I want_ , and _what I want_ is **half your shit** and if _that's_ too much ? Then you can go make, find or **steal** more – an' it'll _even_ out sooner or later. _This_ , is your way'a **life** now. The _more_ you fight back the _harder_ it will be. So, if someone comes t' your door you fuckin' _let us in_ , we **own** that fuckin' door. You try t' fuckin' **stop** us ? We will fuckin' _knock_ that fucker **down**. You understand ?"

It felt like it had been so long since she'd heard someone else's voice. Someone other than NEGAN. Shit, did the guy ever **stop** ? It felt like she'd just been hit by an _un-repenting_ stream of machine gun bullets. Every _dramatic_ pause – every _momentary_ silence was an opportunity to assess the wounds before it started up again.

Negan leaned closer to Rick, a hand lifting to cone his ear. LOOMING. "What ? No _answer_ ?" The same hand rose to his beard, running down salt and pepper hair which was bizarrely _mesmerising_. "You don't really think th't you were gonna get _through_ this without bein' _punished_ now, **did** you ?"

It's a question that made her legs _tense_ but the pins and needles had started to feel like daggers and **butchers knives** causing her to _whimper_. Negan's gaze _snapped_ over to her and she felt like she'd just been **punched** in the chest – turning her head away quickly. _Don't comment_ , _please just leave me alone_.

His attention had _drifted_ because he was _talking_ again. "I don't wanna **kill** you people. Just wanna make that clear from the _get-go_. I want _you_ t' **work** f'r me and _you_ can't **do** that if you're fuckin' _dead_ now, _can_ you ?!"

If she hadn't been STUNNED to **silence** she would've _laughed_. Albeit manically, but it couldn't have been any worse than the deadly tone this **psychotic** man was using.

"Ah'm not growin' a _garden_ —" He grinned, leaning back once again. "But, y' killed ma **people**. A whole, fuckin', _damn_ , **shit** load of 'em. More than ah'm _comfortable_ with and _for_ **that** ? Well f' that y' gotta fuckin' _pay_. So now ? I am gonna beat the holy _fuck_ , **fucking** , fuckidy **fuck** outta one'a you." The bat swung a three sixty in his grip and even at a _distance_ Jay flinched. The slight shift in the group suggested _they_ did too.

"This—" Negan lowered the bat in to eye level, like holding a trophy. "This is **Lucille**. An' _she_ is **AWESOME**."

Lucille. He'd _named_ his bat. He'd _named_ his _bat_? The bat that he would use to _bash_ one of their _skulls_ in, covered in _vicious_ barbed wire and— **wait**.

' _outta one'a you_.' Negan's words echoed in her head and she bit her lower lip, enough to draw blood – the taste making her crease her lips as though she'd eaten something _sour_. **Any one of them**. It could be _any_ one. Even _her_! Oh _fuck_ – the realisation that someone she held close to her heart would be lost to an _undoubtedly_ agonising death tonight. Hell – these people were family to her. Every **damn** _one_ of them. Fingers tightened, digging into the ground again as thoughts _strangled_ her overcrowded mind. She was currently blinded by anger – by HATRED towards this _vile_ man.

" _All_ this. **All** this is just so we can _pick_ out which one'a **you** gets _the honour_."

Was that what he called it ? **HONOUR** ? Her mind seems to slip as Negan stepped to Abraham who leaned back, tilting his chin up to look the other _directly_ in his eyes. What did he _see_ ? What **could** he see ? Or was it _glazed_ , the blinds pulled down to hide any _inner_ emotion. Any regret. Part of her was curious. She wanted to know this man's _secrets_ , **see** him for what he _truly_ was. But you know the saying. _Curiosity killed the cat_. She wasn't risking **that** shit. Not _yet_ , at least.

Negan hummed, running a hand over his beard again. "Huh I gotta _shave this shit_." That was it. His only words to her fellow comrade before he strolled past Jay and over to Carl. " _You_ got one of our _guns_ —"

Jay scowled to the ground. She could see in her peripheral vision the way Carl _stared_ Negan down and holy **shit** was she proud of him. At the same time, she wanted to _warn_ him. Tell him _not_ to get himself _killed_. That having a backbone in this situation was a **stupid ass move** and yet—Carl had survived so much _by_ growing a backbone and now that he had one he might as well _slap the bitch_ out of people with it.

"You got a _lot_ of our guns. _Shit_ kid, _lighten_ up. Least _cry_ a little." Negan smirked at his remark and Jay can feel the anger **bubbling** inside her. She can't imagine how Rick _feels_ right now and honestly ? She didn't want to. The man chuckled before he was back to his full height again and _Christ_ was he TALL. Taller than _tall_ it was—terrifying ? **Intimidating** ? He pressed his shoulders back, the leather jacket that covered his upper half _rising_ to reveal a white shirt and belt and was she _staring_? She was _staring_. What the **fuck** Jay ? What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you ? She could _feel_ herself flush before turning her stare back to the ground as he tucked the gun he'd picked up from Carl into his pants. The sound of him clearing his throat once again echoed into the crisp, night air and Jay wanted to _wipe_ the drip of _sweat_ beading at her forehead away but she _daren't_ move.

It's silent for a moment and once again the suspense is _overwhelming_. DEADLY. "Jhee- _zus_ !" They jump again – this time he stood before Maggie and Jay felt her heart _almost_ **STOP**. "You look fuckin' _shitty_! Let's just put you outta your misery _right now_ —" _Almost_ ? **No** , Jay actually felt her heart stop as Negan broke Lucille into a swing and everything happened so _fast_ she couldn't even comprehend how to react. Glenn launched himself towards the two and Negan's swing _halted_ half way as several men beat some sense into Glenn – or at least that would've been how _they'd described it_. Maggie shouted for them to cease and the gasp that slipped from various members of the group stroked Jay's ears like an unwanted touch. " **Nope** —" Negan _finally_ spoke out against the act and she almost felt relief. "Nope, get him back in _line_." Glenn was then dragged back to his previous position, _sobbing_ – his expression **bleeding** pain. Not physical, however. MENTAL pain. Mental _agony_ to the idea of Maggie coming to harm.

"Don't ! **Don't** —" Glenn plead, staring desperately at Negan who only _grinned_ in return. MONSTER.

"A'ight _listen_ , don't _any_ of ya do that again. I will **shut** that shit down _no_ exceptions. First one's _free_ , it's an _emotional_ moment—" He pointed to Glenn, his lips consumed by what appeared to be _sickening_ amusement. "—I **get** it." He looked to Rick and tilted his head. " _Sucks_ , don't it ? The moment you realise _you_ don't know **shit**." Rick's expression faltered and Jay was questioning whether Rick actually _wanted_ to **AGREE** with Negan's words. Was he really questioning his _leadership_ right now ?

Negan's **predatory** gaze planted back onto Carl and his grin only seemed to _stretch_. " _This_ is your _kid_ !" He almost found it funny– Lucille was pointing straight at him and Jay couldn't help the protective feeling that caused her shoulders to raise. _Don't touch him you_ _ **fuck**_.

"Right ? _Oh-ho-ho_ —" His chuckle was followed by a _higher_ pitch inhale which made Jay's spine _freeze_ ? It was something you expected to hear in the middle of the night from the darkest corner of your room, only for your **worst** nightmare to _crawl_ out from the shadows. But **no** , this nightmare was in man form and he carried a stick that could _crack_ your skull with _one_ successful hit. "This is _definitely_ your kid !"

" **STOP THIS** —" Rick's voice was carried throughout the open grounds and everyone stilled. They _hadn't_ been expecting it, that was for _damn_ sure. Jay lifted her gaze, curving it to the other when suddenly Lucille rose and _blocked_ half her vision. She flinched back at the " **HEY** " which was _BELLOWED_ from Negan. He stepped back over to Rick and Jay just wanted to _vanish_ right _there_ and then when she caught him looking at her _again_ as he passed.

"Do **NOT** make me _kill_ the little _future serial killer_ , don't make it EASY on me. I **gotta** pick _somebody_. _Everybody's_ at the table waitin' for me t' **order**."

Jay hadn't realised just how _cold_ she was until her skin felt as though it was being bitten. Her mind started to _drift_ and she couldn't process much else apart from how **damn** _cold_ her _nose_ was. Negan's whistling _snapped_ her back to reality, the haunting sound buzzing against _sensitive_ ears.

"I simply cannot **decide** !" The man laughed, rubbing a hand to his forehead. His back was turned for a _moment_ and Jay was praying for someone to launch at him but he was _back_ to face them in _seconds_ and everything seemed hopeless. "I got an _idea_ —" His chuckle was dark as he approached the group, grin spread _wide_ – what was new ? She wished she _hadn't_ asked the question though when Lucille was pointed to Rick's face – _so damn close_ …

"Eeny—" **oh god**. "Meeny—" **not Maggie** … "Miny—" **fuck** ! "Moe—" **please**. "Catch—" **stop this** ! "a tiger—" **no no no**. "by—" **was he really** ? "his toe—" **playing eeny meeny miny moe** ? "if—" **with people's lives** ? "he hollers—" **this wasn't real**. **Hahaha**. **There was NO way**. "let him go—" Jay lifted her gaze. She was face to face with Lucille and she felt so _numb_. The sight of **cruel** barbed wire _inches_ from her porcelain skin was _horrifying_ but part of her wanted to _embrace_ it. She hadn't realised just how numb she not only felt at that moment but how numb she'd felt for a _WHILE_. Negan watched her, lips twisting in thought, a mental **debate** almost as he considered her as his victim. Something in his eyes sparked and it actually _scared_ her but she _didn't_ back down, her eyes on his, heart thrumming once _again_ as she _straightened_ her spine. **I'M NOT SCARED OF YOU**. She hoped her body language managed to _convince_ him because every part of her _inside_ knew it was a **complete** fucking _lie_. Negan nodded to himself before moving on and Jay wanted to _collapse_ right there and _then_. "My mother—" **he was dragging this out**. "told me—" **end it**. "t' pick—" **endless**. "the very—" **monster**. "best—" **psycho**. "one—" **evil**. "and you—" **stop**. "are—" _**stop**_. "it." Negan had stopped at Abe. He had **STOPPED**. There was a silence, _seconds_ , but it was _still_ silence and it was _right_ _there_ that Jay could _feel_ the last grip on hope _slip_ away as she watched it float up into the air and dissipate right before her _eyes_.

"Anybody _moves_ , anybody _says_ anything, cut the boy's _other_ eye out an' feed it to his father and THEN we'll _start_. You can _breathe_ , you can _blink_ , you can _cry_. Hell, you're _all_ gonna be doin' **that**." It was so _quick_. Negan brought Lucille down on top of Abe's head and he just fell to the ground like—like— she couldn't think. The sob that rasped from her dry mouth sent bile up the back of her throat and she choked, unable to look away so her hands flew to _cover_ her sight and she continued to sob as chunks of soil fell into her eyes and she wanted to **die**. She wanted to _die_. "OH, look at **that** ! Takin' it like a CHAMP !" Negan's voice rang in her ears and Jay's hands slipped down – only _slightly_ – to see what he meant and the sight of Abe sitting back up made her heart clench ? The stream of blood _flowing_ down from the **obvious** crack in his skull caused her to _gag_. She was used to gore, used to _endless_ blood and guts **spewing** from carcasses but this was someone ALIVE. This was someone she _cared_ about. FAMILY. A FRIEND.

" _Suck_ — **my** — _nuts_ ," the words were stuttered from him and Jay ground her teeth so that they were bared like a snarl. Abe was so strong, so damn _inspirational_ , even when **forced** to his death bed. How dare this monster _take_ him _from_ them ?

The bat was brought down _again_ and she _had_ to look _away_ this time. The sound _repeated_ : BANG – SPLK – CRACK – it was _too_ much. It felt like forever when the beating finally stopped and Negan's laughter was so mocking, so **DISRESPECTFUL** it made Jay want to _rip a gun_ from one of the men behind her and **shoot** Negan _straight_ in the head with it. Obviously, the fantasy playing out in her mind was _definitely_ a fairy tale compared to what would really happen and she couldn't risk anyone **else** getting hurt by her thoughtless doing.

"Did you hear **that** ? He said **SUCK MY NUTS** !" Negan tried to regain his breath as he laughed, his stance open and crooked. Jay's mind was on fire with **anger**. There was no _true_ way to convey how angry she really **was** , even her _expression_ couldn't _justify_. The beating started up again and she felt deaf by the end of it. Her body trembled , nerves shaking her _violently_ as she peeked through sweaty, salty palms only to see what once was Abe's head _spread_ _across_ _the ground_ as though it had just well and truly **EXPLODED**.

"Oh my **GOODNESS** !" His laughing never seemed to cease. "Look at THIS !" He swung the bat like before, the sound of blood _spattering_ across Rick's face causing Jay to _gag_. "You _guys_ , **look** at my _dirty girl_ !" She wanted to **vomit**. The bile in the back of her throat was getting _thicker_ , burning acid against _vulnerable_ skin and she couldn't help but wince as she tried to swallow it down. DIRTY GIRL. He sounded so—EXCITED. Thrilled by the BUTCHER of Abraham's skull and like **FUCK** did she pray for a car to race by and hit him _right now_. A zombie to **grab** him and rip him _apart_. Someone to shoot him. But **nothing** came. Only the DIRTY, creepy as hell chuckle that moaned from him.

" _Sweetheart_." Jay watched as he shoved the bloodied bat under Rosita's nose. "Lay your eyes on _this_." Rosita didn't lift her gaze and Jay wanted to actually _demand_ her **not** to. "Oh _damn_ — were you ? Were you _t'gether_ ? That **sucks**." SUCKS ? **Heartless**. Jay clawed at the ground again, almost _unable_ to stop herself from running at him. How DARE he ! **HOW FUCKING DARE HE** ?!

"But if you _were_ , you should _know_ , there was a reason f'r all this. **Red** ? And hell he _was_ , is and will _EVER_ **be** Red – he just took one or _six_ or **SEVEN** f'r the TEAM." Every SHOUT. Every **raise** in his voice had Jay _flinch_. "So take – a damn – _look_."

At this point Jay could actually hear Rosita sobbing. It tore every little piece of her apart. No, not tore. **RIPPED**. Rosita still _failed_ to lift her gaze.

" **TAKE A DAMN LOOK** —" Negan's roar was interrupted by _Daryl_ who was suddenly on his feet, throwing a punch straight into Negan's face. Jay's whole body **jump started** and she had to physically grab the ground to stop herself from getting involved. Not Daryl _oh god please_ **not** Daryl. He was **all** she had – _emotionally_. Deep down in her numbed heart something sparked every time they spoke and they were both completely _aware_ of it. No one had _acted_ – they hadn't had a _chance_ to. But they wanted to and that's **all** that mattered to her right now. They _couldn't_ take him from her. She **wouldn't** let them. Shock. Surprise. Anger. JEALOUSY. That was a _stupid_ move. That was a damn, **stupid fucking move** but she _consented_ and she supported. Hell, Daryl had **beaten** her to it.

Just like Glenn, men jumped to Negan's rescue, _wrestling_ Daryl to the floor. " **STOP**!" The word managed to slip past _sealed_ lips, Jay's glare harsh and full of rage as she caught Negan's gaze in her own and she noticed the _double take_ he gave her. Noticed how he squinted, both blown away by her confident outburst as well as somewhat **EXCITED**. The grin on his face grew and he gave a shake of his head, chuckling before turning straight back to Daryl. " **NO**." Negan's voice boomed through the _hassle_ as he pointed Lucille down at Daryl. " _Oh no_." The laughter again. The laughter that Jay was sure would **haunt** her dreams for _fuck_ _knows_ how long. "That ? Oh _ho ho MY_ ! That – is a **NO NO**. The _whole_ thing, not one BIT of that shit flies here."

Through the crowd came a man who forced Daryl's crossbow against his back. "Y' wan' me t' do it ? _Right here_ —" He's blond and his sweat soaked locks fell down over his face, covering most of his features – which was _lucky for him_ , as Jay wanted **nothing** more than to _memorise_ that dick sack's face for when she _next_ sees him.

Negan gripped at Daryl's chin, tilting his head up to meet the man's eyes. " **No**. Nah, y' don't kill _that_. Not until y' _try_ it a little."

Jay grimaced at the response. _Not until you try it a little_. TRY IT ? Only SHE could TRY it. **HOW DARE YOU** – the question kept _repeating_ itself inside her _throbbing_ , aching mind.

The blond man backed away and she exhaled heavily.

" _Anyway_ —" Negan continued. "That's **not** how it _works_. Now I already _told_ you people. FIRST ones _free_. Then what I say ? I said I will **SHUT** that shit **DOWN**." His lips curled into another wolfish grin. " _No exceptions_. Now I don't know what kinda _lyin' assholes_ you've been _dealin'_ with, but ah'm a man'a my WORD. First impressions are **important**. I need _you_ – t' **know** me." There's a pause, but it feels like a _never ending silence_. That is until Jay sees his grip tighten upon Lucille's hilt and somehow she KNOWS. She KNOWS what's going to come next and her shoulders are already rising to her jaw as she **braced** herself.

"So—" His demon eyes are cast to the bat, admiring the blood for a moment before looking back to the group. " _Back to it_ —" And with that, he turned, **slamming** the bat down onto Glenn's head. Everything goes in _slow motion_. The way the bat comes down again for a _second_ blow – **BAM**. There was a _blood curdling_ scream that **ripped** from Maggie's throat and Jay felt her skin crawl.

Glenn sat back up and FUCK. The quick glimpse Jay gained before her sight was covered by her own hands again revealed Glenn's eye to have _literally_ popped the _fuck_ out and JESUS if that wasn't one of the most **CRUSHING** things she'd _ever_ seen—

"M-MM-MM-GEE—" The sounds that bled from trembling lips had them all staring at Glenn as he looked to no one but _Maggie_.

Negan leaned in like a waiting vulture. "Buddy—you still _there_ ? I just don't KNOW it _seems_ like you're tryin'a SPEAK. But **you** just took a **HELL** of a _HIT_ ! I just popped your skull so _hard_ , your eyeball just **POPPED** out !" It's like watching a bully with his victim – except far more BRUTAL. "HA—An' it is _gross_ as **SHIT** !"

"M-Maggie I-I will f-find you—" It's _stuttered_ but somehow the words flowed incredibly well for someone who just took two beats to the skull. DETERMINATION. _A dying promise_. He started to **choke** on his own words and part of Jay just _wanted it over_. Put him out of his **FUCKING** misery. AGONY.

Fawn hues flicked up and Jay watched Negan's expression flicker from _psychopathic sadist_ to—was that **EMOTION** ? A frown twitched upon his lips, brows _furrowing_ as he observed the groups distress. Just like that—a simple second of expression and Jay knew there was _someone still in there_. But why did she even **CARE** ?

"Ah hell—" His words broke her train wreck of thought. "I can see this is _hard_ on you guys. I am sorry. I _truly_ am. But I **DID** say it—" His gaze switched to his men who surrounded them, then _back_. His grin returned and his expression lifted with enthusiasm. " **NO EXCEPTIONS** —" The bat swung, _knocking_ Glenn to the floor. Then, the beatings began **again**. Maggie's sobs _filled_ the air and it's _now_ that Jay feels _every_ ounce of fear **leave** her. She doesn't feel scared anymore. The anger drinks it from her like a hot beverage and _fills_ her up. Her stare is **DEADLY** as she aims it at the _ground_. **NO EXCEPTIONS**. She wanted to **kill** him. She _vowed_ she would **kill** him. She can feel Rick's HEAVY breathing beside her but she doesn't want to _look_. Rick didn't _need_ to see what a **vicious** glare she currently possessed. Didn't need that _weighing_ him down – along with **everything** else. For now, she would _burn a hole_ in the **ground** before her, and _later_ ? She'd throw Negan **into** it and _watch_ him burn.

"You _bunch'a_ PUSSIES—" Negan ground out as he swung down again. "Ah'm just gettin' STARTED."

SMACK. _SMACK_.  SMACK. **SMACK**. _**SMACK**_.

"Lucille is THIRSTY." He _laughed_. "She is a **VAMPIRE** BAT !" There's a chunk of flesh _hanging_ from the bat and Jay can SEE it swinging in the side of her sight. The bile was _back_ and she shook her head which only made her **MORE** nauseous. " _What_ —?" He walked towards Rick, stride proud and strong. How long had it _taken_ him to **perfect** _hiding_ everything inside from _all_ ? Even HIMSELF ! "Was the joke that **bad** ?"

"I'm g'nna kill you—" Rick whispered. Jay didn't look but she FELT the _intensity_ of his words—and suddenly Negan was **RIGHT** there _next_ to her, crouching in front of Rick. _He was looking at her_. She just **knew** , the way the hair on the back of her neck _rose to attention_ and goosebumps covered her skin.

"What ? I didn't quite CATCH that you're gonna have t' _speak_ up—" MOCKING. patronising.

Rick swallowed, his head lowering to gather **COURAGE** before _lifting_ it again. "Not t'day, not t'morrow—but _I'm gonna kill you_." TENSION. **Violent** – DARING.

Negan sucked air through barely parted lips. The sound caused Jay to twitch, her lack of visibility on the situation stopping her from knowing what the noise WAS. " _Jesus_ —" He huffed. "Simon—"

A name. _But for which one_ ?

"Whad'e'have ? A knife ?" Negan's gaze never moved from Rick's, the act of **EYE CONTACT** being a way of _controlling_ the situation. **INTIMIDATION** perhaps.

Someone behind Jay hummed – _thoughtful_. "He had a hatchet."

Negan blinked, allowing his gaze to flick from Rick to whoever Simon was, a brow arched in amusement. "A _hatchet_ ?" His grin widened.

"He had an **axe** ," Simon responded quickly. Jay arched her own brow. _Was this really happening_ ? Such casual conversations after—after **everything** that had just happened ?

 **CHUCKLE**. Negan's tongue _flicked_ out past his grin before _disappearing_ again. "Simon's my right hand man. Havin' one'a those is **important**. I mean wha'd'y' have left _without_ 'em ? A whole lotta WORK."

 _Right hand man_ ? So the **PSYCHOPATH** had a _psycho TRAINEE_ ? _Was that it_ ? How ANYONE could follow this bag of SHIT was **beyond** Jay's _understanding_. Then again, if someone like NEGAN really **existed** – who's to say _what the fuck else_ was **out** there ?

"You have one ? Maybe one'a these FINE people still _breathin'_ ? _Oh_ , or **did** I—" His tongue CLICKED against the roof of his mouth, the ' **CLOCK'** sound harsh and if it weren't for Lucille's graceful _BOB_ Jay would've sniggered her _disgust_.

There's another silence and it's painful. Too _tense_ , but after all she'd just _witnessed_ , Jay somehow felt it was **bearable**. But only due to the _inability_ to argue anything different. Negan exhaled. "Sure, yeah, gimme his axe."

She can hear movement, boots scuffing dirt as someone appeared beside her. She wanted to look up, to look this WITNESS in the eyes and _show_ him her **DEATH GLARE** but she _knew_ —she knew what would _happen_. If anything, the man would just laugh or **spit** at her.

Negan was now armed with an axe and something about the way he _easily_ tilted it – almost as if it were NOTHING but a _TOY_ – made the blood in her face _drain_. She felt dizzy, wanted to pass out but this _wasn't about her_. Hell, Abe and Glenn had _both_ taken a hit to the head and managed to sit up STRONG. **UNDEAFEATED**. She couldn't show _weakness_ right now. Not unless she wanted them to pick at her like _scavenging_ crows.

Another long silence until he rose to his feet and oh **GOD** what was he going to do _now_? Would he _fling_ the axe into HER skull ? There was such an _element_ of **UNPREDICTABLITY** to this man which he obviously worked _hard_ to achieve and although she wasn't afraid as such, this made anticipation feel like _worms_ upon her skin and she couldn't help but squirm. He tucked the axe into his belt and Jay felt her biceps _relax_ , only to suddenly clench tight when Negan's hand _GRABBED_ Rick's shoulder – _yanking_ him along. Now Jay's gaze had lifted and she watched as Rick was dragged like a dog on a leash towards the caravan. "I'll be right back. Maybe Rick will be WITH me. An' if **not** ? Well we can just turn these people _inside out_ **won't** we ?" He stopped. "I mean—the ones that are _LEFT_ —" Rick was kicked into the darkness of the caravan, **GONE** just like _that_. Negan soon followed, the door slamming behind him.

They were _left_ there – surrounded by strangers who wouldn't **hesitate** to kill ANY of them. Time seemed to still. in the icy air. She had only just noticed how every breath she exhaled turned to smoke as if inside she truly _was_ on fire. **Nobody** spoke. It was as though they had communication with Negan _still_ – commanding even when he wasn't **THERE**. Maybe they just knew. Or perhaps they'd had it _beaten_ into them in the past. _Jay took her chance_. She brought up her gaze and turned it to the crowd of people that— **holy shit**. There were so _many_ of them. A **true** audience. No _wonder_ Negan seemed to think of himself as a fucking **PERFORMER**. Actor of the _goddamn_ century.

The first person she looked to was the _blond_. She still didn't have a proper name for him – _she had a few of her own_ – but she could see his face now and **GOD** did she _regret_ even looking. Half of his face was SCRAMBLED – **literally**. It was like melted cheese had been _slathered_ across pale skin. _What was this guy's story_? That must've been fucking **PAINFUL**. Jay felt her stomach _twist_ at the thought but then her brows _furrowed_. Was she _really_ feeling sympathy for this vomit-faced **FUCK** ? The one who'd just _stood_ and _watched_ as her friends— _ **FAMILY**_ were BUTCHERED ? _NEVER_.

" **Hey** , eyes forward, _Bitch_." Jay's eyes widen at the nickname and although her head turns her body's ready to **throw the FUCK down**. _Her_ verses _god knows how many of them_ – sure, **great** plan Jay. Meanwhile, Negan _wasn't_ gone. He was only a few feet away inside the caravan and Jay's head was suddenly filled with **agonising** ideas of what Negan might be doing to Rick with that _axe_. Except, she couldn't hear any _screaming_. Any sounds of pain which was _relieving_ ?

Curving her neck, she managed to catch a glimpse of **SIMON'S** face. _MOUSTACHE_. _STUBBLE_. Very grey. Panic surged through her as she turned her gaze _forwards_ again. She knew if she had to be told _more than once_ then something bad might happen and really – she didn't want to deal with that. Jay was a fighter. She was _strong_ , independent and didn't get attached to people _easily_. But when she did she'd go as far as it was necessary to _help_ them. Although right _now_ ? She was so **numb**. She was so tired. Cold. EXHAUSTED. The list never _ended_ and she felt selfish for having such thoughts. _Stop thinking about_ _**YOURSELF**_. Daylight was _growing_. The early shading of dawn coloured the skies like a **pretty** picture. Except _this_ picture was **far** from _pretty_.

The **stench** of _gore_ started to fill the claustrophobic air and it was getting _harder_ to swallow.

Suddenly,

* * *

she was locked in a room – _familiar_. The walls were white, an **unfinished** job of bloody red covering half of them. Guts stuck to the surface, slowly _dribbling_ down like rain against a window. She felt dizzy– as if she wasn't even in her own body – hands **SLAMMING** against a door. "Let me out !" She screamed. _Why was she screaming_ ? _Who was she talking to_ ? "Please ! Let me out ! You asshole let me OUT ! Let me – _**please**_ !" Her palms faltered against the door when blood smeared from her palms against the white paint and— _was she bleeding_ ? A quick glance at her hands showed no wounds but _discoloured_ blood. Not HERS. _Then who's_ ? Something snarled behind her, gurgling and choking as it stepped closer. UNDEAD. Only then did she see the multiple bodies scattered upon the floor like litter. Nothing but **WASTE**. Her hands gripped at the shoulders of the MONSTER and now she had a knife in one hand – stabbing into the _decaying_ neck before her. Another stab to the head and the creature gasped, dropping to the floor – DEAD. _For a second time_ ? There was more snarling behind her and turning revealed six zombies closing in. _How had they gotten there_ ? Flexing her wrists, Jay launched at one, kicking it to the ground before stomping it's skull to a _pulp_. Her hand snapped out and rammed the knife into one's head before pulling out and into another. _Three down_. She was about to go for the fourth one when two more appeared and she was now backing up into the corner as they got _closer_. Something grabbed her leg and she was pulled to the floor, leg instinctively kicking repeatedly to remove the _rotten grip_ from her ankle. Tears threatened to fall until they actually were and she knew. _This was it_. **This was the end**. Darkness closed in as zombies formed like a barricade – _or were they knocking her barricade DOWN_ ? Probably. She didn't care. Hands covered her eyes and she could only _sob_. Then there was a bright light. Really damn bright and she thought ' _am I dead_ ?' Gunshots caused her to cry out and apart from the _screaming_ and utter panic which exploded in her pounding head like an _erupting volcano_ —she couldn't help but think – ' _who the fuck is SHOOTING_ ?' surely **James** wasn't still here ? The act of locking her in surely suggesting he didn't want her around anymore ? That he was just using her ? He'd probably ran for the hills. Abandoning her like she was NOTHING. The only person she'd trusted, the ONLY man she'd actually FELT for. Just like that. GONE. Hurt. Anger. Terror. She was a bursting dam of emotions, water cascading down porcelain cheeks to show just how **broken** she was. **Wait**. Fawn hues flickered from behind bloody palms, noting how the zombies were now on the floor, _unmoving_. But how ? She looked to the door which was now open and that immediately explained why there was no GOD stood before her, nor DEVIL but a man who she'd _never_ seen before. He looked perplexed but **CERTAIN** as he stepped closer and _held out a hand_.

"We've gotta go. C'mon, you're safe now, but we've gotta go. _Take my hand_."

Jay blinked. **Hysteria** ? "Who are you ?" She didn't know why but she gripped his hand like a life line – which _technically_ , he WAS. After all, if this man really was the devil, _she was already in hell_. Could things get much **worse** ?

His grip was tight and promising as he _pulled_ her to her feet. She didn't question anything else as he pulled her to the doorway, _letting him take lead_. After all, she didn't think she could get words out right now. Comprehension of the situation was even a **no no**.

"Daryl. I'm **Daryl**."

* * *

Growling. No ? Was that—an _engine_ ?

She gasped for air, hands scrabbling against the floor – _grounding_ herself back to **reality**. She was—day dreaming ? **REMEMBERING**. That shit had happened. Jay blinked, looking around before her attention focussed on the caravan that was moving ? _How long had she been out_ ? Endless questions swirled within her brain, her breathing **heavy**. The door swung open and Rick came tumbling out, rolling a few times. Her eyes widened, the tension rising back up her spine as Negan stepped out from the vehicle. He was back. _For more_ ?

 **Please god no**.

He seemed even _more_ pissed now, grabbing Rick by the scruff of his jacket before dragging him back to the group. Rick's arms flailed wildly in an attempt to protect his face from the ground and Jay felt **STRANGLED** by her _inability_ to **STOP** this. To save him. He was thrown to the dirt.

"Here we _are_. Lemme ask you somethin', _Rick_. You even know what that little trip was **about** ?" Every eye was on Rick. **LEADER** ? The term was currently _debatable_ but Jay's confidence in him still stood, even if it's knees were _starting_ to weaken.

Rick didn't respond. Eyes of fear, uncertainty flicked to _every_ member of the group before he hitched and turned them to the floor.

" _Speak_ when you're _spoken_ to," Negan ordered, impatience dripping from his tone.

"Okay— _okay_ …" Rick puffed.

"That trip was about the way you— _looked_ at me. I wanted t' change that, I wanted you to **understand**. But you're STILL lookin' at me the same _damn_ way. Like I **shit** in your scrambled eggs an' _that's_ not gonna WORK. So, do I give you _another chance_ ?" Negan crouched, Lucille dancing circles in his grip as he waited for a response. Rick's breathing got heavier, shaky– almost as though he wanted to cry and Jay couldn't blame him.

"Y-yes, **yeah** —yes," the second time is stronger, more _affirming_.

Patted on the back – two loud thumps and Negan was back on his feet. "Okay— **alright** ! Then _here it is_ , the **grand** prize GAME ! What you do _next_ ? Will decide whether your **crap** day becomes everyone's **LAST** crap day, or just _ANOTHER_ crap day." A wrist is flicked, finger pointing to the group. "Get some _guns_ t' the back'a their _heads_."

There's something _cold_ now pressed to her skull but it's barely noticeable due to how freezing the air already was. She'd been sat for so _long_ she was sure her blood would rush to her head when she was _finally_ able to stand. **IF** she was. That was still _undetermined_ – for all she knew, she might never leave the ground again.

"Good," Negan hummed. One **MISTAKE** , one _slip_ of the trigger and she'd be gone. **They'd** be gone. Just like _that_. But she didn't know whether that scaredher – confused by _anticipation_ that pooled at her ankles. _Would she drown in her desire for death before she came to her senses_ ? "Now, level with their noses so if y' have t' **fire** —" His hand lifted to his mouth, clenched to a fist as he imitated how the head would **explode** if fired at. "—it'll be a REAL _mess_." There's _amusement_ in his tone. He looked around the group, quickly passing Jay's glare before zoning in on Carl. Her teeth grit together. " **Kid** —" Another hand was held out, finger flexing for Carl to approach before he pointed at the floor beside him. "—Right _here_." There was a beat of nothing and Jay was worried Carl would **refuse** and get himself killed. " _ **Kid**_ —" Negan's tone was more harsh, _demanding_. Don't **fuck** him _around_ , Carl. _No one else needed to_ _ **die**_ _today_. "— _now_." Carl started to rise and Jay inhaled. Had she not been breathing ? The suspense clearly had her gripped.

The boy made his way over, slow. There was no _fear_ – no **nothing**. It was just like _watching_ the UNDEAD. Negan started to remove his belt and panicked surged through her. _What the fuck would he do with that_? The list was **endless** , probably. Who _knew_ what **sick** ideas this man had ?

"You a _**southpaw**_ ?" He fiddled with the belt.

"Am I a _what_ ?" Carl returned, standing tall. It's a term she's sure he'd probably **never** heard before. **OLD SCHOOL** and obviously just a sick _joke_ to Negan. She froze. **Hold on**. _Why was he asking_ ?

"You a _leftie_ ?"

" **No**." Carl cocked his head to the side as he responded, gaze never leaving Negan's. That probably only fuelled him. Ripping people's souls away through an _unbroken_ stare.

The man's tongue _perched_ upon his lips for a moment, smirk curving. "Good—" his tongue vanished as he started to wrap the belt around Carl's arm and OH GOD was he going to _cut it off_ ? _**He was going to cut it off**_ !

Jay felt herself somehow tense even MORE. Her lips parted to cope with her heavy breathing and shit there was no way she could _sit through this_ ? Gore ? She didn't **CARE**. That wasn't a _problem_. This was Carl. Little, _baby_ Carl and oh **JESUS** this couldn't _happen_ he didn't _**deserve**_ this ! **Glenn** didn't deserve it— **Abe** didn't deserve it— anger _swelled_ within her, legs twitching with a need to move. Why wasn't anyone **DOING** anything ? Why weren't they **STOPPING** him ? They just _watched_ like _brainwashed_ owls and— that's what they were doing because that's _**all**_ they _could_ do. If they fought back, if they rebelled ? More people would **DIE**. Negan had made that _CLEAR_ as **day**. Negan had _**PROVEN**_ it.

"That _hurt_ ?" The belt was tightened.

"No," Carl scowled.

"Sure ? It's _supposed_ to—" Negan smirked. _Teenage rebellion_ , Jay knew Carl could hide emotion when he wanted to and like hell would he _admit_ to pain if _asked_. "Alright. Get down on the ground, Kid. Next t' **DADDY**. Spread them _wings_ !" His hand flew to the top of Carl's hat, picking it up like a bird plucking fish from water, lifting it only to let go as it twirled to the ground. Carl lowered himself to the floor, Negan's hand pinning him for a moment to assure he wouldn't _shift_. "Simon— y' got a _**pen**_ ?" Jay resisted turning her head to the RIGHT HAND man. Did he have a LEFT one too or did he also _cut THAT one up_ ?

" _Yeah_ —" Simon nodded. He reached into his pocket, shifting for a few moments before picking one out – throwing it to Negan.

He caught it, removing the lid with his teeth before he groaned, crouching down to draw a line upon Carl's arm. " **Sorry** Kid—" He began. "This is gonna be as COLD as a warlock's _ballsack_ jus' like it was hangin' his ballsack above y' an' _dragged_ it _**right**_ across y' forearm." The line stretched across the pale skin. "There y' _go_ ! Give y' a little **LEVERAGE**."

Rick leaned closer, watching. "Please— **please** _don't_ …" He begged. "Please _don't_ ?"

Negan grinned. " **Me** ?" Another chuckle. " _ **I**_ ain't doin' SHIT." He rose back to his feet. " _Ah_ , Rick. I want y' t' _take your axe_ – **cut** your son's LEFT arm off _right on that line_."

 **Oh**.

"Yeah I know, I _know_ , you're gonna have t' _process_ that f'r a second – that makes SENSE. Still though, I'm gonna need y' t' _**do**_ it – or all these people are gonna **DIE**. Then _Carl_ dies, then the people back HOME die – and then YOU. _Eventually_. We keep you breathin' f'r a _few years_ just so you can STEW on it."

"You don't have t' _**do**_ this, we _understand_ ! We **understand** —" Michonne's voice broke the crowd's silence and Jay jumped. _Speechless_. She'd spent so much time complaining how _no one_ was bothering to _do_ anything and yet – neither had she ? So now Michonne had _stepped_ up.

" **YOU** understand—" Negan nodded. "— _Yeah_. I'm not sure that RICK does." He looked down at their leader. "I'm gonna need a _CLEAN_ cut. _Right there_ on that line. Now I know this is a _screwed-up_ thing t' _ask_ but it's gonna have t' be like a SALAMI slice. Nothin' **MESSY** , clean – 45 degrees, give us somethin' t' FOLD over. We got a GREAT doctor, the kid'll be FINE. _Probably_."

Salami slice. Jay bit the inside of her cheeks. DON'T VOMIT. _Don't do it_. She would consider – as a distraction, but she knew Negan would probably make some kind of GROTESQUE _comment_ or _joke_ before continuing this TORTURE session.

" _ **Rick**_ —" He warned. "This needs t' happen _now_. **CHOP CHOP**. Or – I will CRUSH the little fellas skull _myself_."

"It—it could— _it could be me_ —wh-what—you— _ **you can do it t' me**_ I—I can go w—with— _with you_ —" Rick stuttered.

" **No**. This is the _only_ way. Rick. _Pick up the axe_. **NOT** making a decision is a _**BIG**_ decision. You really wanna see all these people DIE ? You _WILL_. You will see _every_ , **UGLY** thing. **OH** my _god_ are you gonna make me COUNT ? OKAY _Rick_. You _**win**_ , I am COUNTING. **THREE** —"

The sound that came from Rick was— Rick was _broken_. The sound _confirmed_ it. " _ **Please**_ !" _Prolonged_ / SOBBING. This was their leader, _on his knees_ , begging for **mercy** at the hand of this **DEVIL**. "PLEASE it—it can be— _it can be m_ - _mee_ — **PLEASE** !"

" **TWO** !"

"PLEASE— _don't do_ —"

A hand slapped all dignity, all pride from Rick's face. Negan leaned in _close_ , one hand gripping at Rick's chin – **no respect**. "This is it." He turned Rick's face to the arm on the floor and Rick howled his distress. " **ONE**."

 _This really was it_. Rick placed his palm across Carl's wrist, _adjusting_ his grip around the axe.

"Dad—" Carl whispered. "—Just do it. _Just do it_ …"

Rick's mouth was wide, unable to get enough air in to _replenish_ what he lost through choked gasps and **stuttered** sobs. He nodded at Carl's words, heartbroken _acceptance_ as he lifted the axe into the air – a consistent flow of vocal anguish _ripping_ from him.

Then Negan was at his side, crouched. "Hey, _hey_ —"

Rick's noise quickly decreased to fast, rasped gasps.

"You answer to **ME**. You _provide_ for me. **You** belong to **me**. _Right_ ?"

NOD. He nodded, head bopping quickly in **defeat**.

Negan gripped at Rick's chin again, YANKING his head up to meet his gaze. "SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE SPOKEN TO ! You **ANSWER** to **ME**. You **PROVIDE** f'r **ME** —"

" _Pr-ovide f'r you_ —" Rick repeated, wincing.

"You **BELONG** t' **ME**. _RIGHT_."

" _Right_." It was barely above a whisper.

" _ **RIGHT**_ ," Negan grinned, satisfied that he'd just brought Rick Grimes to his knees, not to mention pure _defeat_ in the _sickest_ of ways. " **That** —" He pointed to Rick's face. "—is the _look_ I wan'ed t' see." He was back on his feet, a constant rise and fall, yet _always_ at the **top** – _whatever_ level. He picked up the axe, stepping away. "We did it. **ALL** of us. _T'gether_. Even the dead guys on the ground, hell they get the **Spirit Award** for SURE. _T'day_ ? Was a productive **damn** day. Now I _hope_ , f'r all your _sake_ , that you **get** it now. That you—understand, how things _work_. Things have _changed_. Whatever you had **going** for you ? That is over now. **Ah** , DWIGHT—"

It happened so _fast_.

"—Load **him** _UP_." Lucille was pointed to DARYL.

And **Dwight** ? The _blond_ one. The one who'd taken it upon himself to label Jay as _BITCH_ and oh god he had his hands on Daryl. He grabbed him, throwing him into the back of one of the many truck's that surrounded them. Jay's brows furrowed, her teeth bared as she watched. WATCHED. She didn't **do** anything. She fucking couldn't and that made her _so_ —

She would **kill** them. _Somehow_. ALL of them.

Negan crouched beside Rick. "He's got guts. Not a little **BITCH** like _someone_ I know. I _like_ him. He's **MINE** now. But you still wanna try somethin' – not t'day not t'morrow, _not t'day not t'morrow_ , _**not t'day not t'morrow**_ I will cut pieces off'a—" He tapped Lucille at the ground in thought, looking to Simon. " _Hell's_ his name ?"

"Daryl."

" **Wow** !" Negan jeered. "That actually sounds _right_. I will CUT pieces off'a _Daryl_ an' put 'em on your _doorstep_ – **OR** better yet, I will _bring_ him t' YOU an' have **you** do it _for_ me."

 _Cut pieces off of Daryl_. He could FUCKING **try**. Negan looked out to the group, catching Jay's glare like a _baseball_. Hard hitting but to him somewhat thrilling. " _ **AH**_. Welcome to a BRAND new beginnin' you _sorry_ SHITS. Gonna leave you a _truck_. **Keep** it, use it t' _cart_ all the _crap_ you're gonna find me." He extended an arm, pointing to Jay, his grin stretched. "Would _**someone**_ escort this LADY t' my _truck_ ?"

Her heart shot to the back of her throat and **stopped**. She started to _choke_ , the bile now desperate for escape, eyes wild as she coughed her _shock_. After all the big talk, her mind was nothing but a screaming **mess** now. A man stepped out from the crowd and gripped her arms, heaving her to her feet. Arms flailed, legs kicked and feet dragged against dirt as she tried to **free** herself from the grip. Negan only seemed to laugh his _excitement_. "Boy do I know how t' **PICK** 'em. I'm sure you guys don't mind missin' TWO, _am I right_ ? Less mouths t' feed _blah blah blah_ —" Everyone watched in shock as Jay was taken to a truck. She caught Daryl's gaze in her own and **frowned** – he returned the expression. The door was opened and she was tossed inside like a ragdoll. _But it didn't end there_. Someone came around to the other side and _pinned_ her to the chair whilst one man tied her ankles and wrists together. Then, she had a bag put over her head and if she hadn't been overflowing with **rage** she would've felt embarrassed. How weak she must've looked.

"Get the **FUCK** off me, I'll fuckin' _**KILL**_ YOU JUST YOU FUCKIN' _WAIT_ I'M GONNA FUCKIN'—" Someone gripped her jaw.

"Shut the fuck up, _**Bitch**_ —" Dwight. It was _Dwight_. The fucker dared to get so _close_? She struggled but everything was tied and—would she ever see her family _again_ ? What would happen to **Daryl** ?

The car doors slammed, shutting her out of everything and the _realisation_ that she was now **alone** leapt upon her.

"We'll be back for our first offering in one week—" Negan stated, turning to the trucks. "—until then—" he threw the axe behind him and it landed beside Rick. "— _ta ta_."

They were left there like abandoned dogs. Beaten, mentally shredded. Everyone of Negan's followers started to leave as though they were _guests_ to a party.

Something _clicked_ and light _flooded_ the inside of the leather scented car. She couldn't see much, the bag _restricting_ her vision but a figure climbed into the front seat and another into the passenger. An engine started – followed by multiple others, growling to life. The car started to move and she _instantly_ felt sick. If she vomited, it would be in the bag and the idea of **choking** to death on her own _acid_ wasn't the slightest bit tempting.

"That was ROUGH—" The hair on her body rose, a wave of fear washing through her. "You holdin' up _okay_ back there, **Doll** ?"

She was tied up, with **NO** control of the situation and _**NEGAN**_ was in the car with her. Not only was he in the car, but from the direction of his voice, he was driving. Suicidal thoughts _caressed_ her overheated brain, **CRASH** AND **BURN** BABY, _**CRASH**_ AND _**BURN**_. She would risk her own life for this psycho to die but a car crash didn't _guarantee_ his **death**. Brows furrowed and she winced at the question, the undying need to sob, to just exhale her inner agony twisted in her gut but she swallowed.

"Silent treatment, _huh_ ? C'mon, at least tell me y'r _**name**_ ?"

 **BITCH**. The word _instantly_ hit her and she had to _bite_ _down_ on her tongue to **stop** herself from _saying_ it. Dwight's own personal nickname and _boy_ could she **BE** one. But she wouldn't give him that _satisfaction_ – to know the nickname affected her in _any_ way. As far as **he** was concerned, it had flown straight over her head. " _ **Jay**_."

It's quiet for a moment. "Like the _bird_ —" It wasn't really a question, more a **statement**. Except it _wasn't_ from Negan. It was someone else's voice.

"Huh," Negan huffed. "I _like_ Jays, _**don't**_ I Simon ?"

"Yeah. _Yeah_ you **do**. Jays are real _nice_ birds, I hear."

"The proof is in the _pudding_ , Simon." He chuckled to himself and she could feel his gaze on her – burning. It was probably via the rear-view mirror. It was such an _intense_ stare that she wanted to just disintegrate – an ant under a magnifying glass. Was he _**seriously**_ —was he flirting right now ? Was this some kind of sick game ? It was _plausible_ , for HIM. She **remembered** his words.

' _Boy do I know how to pick them_.' PICK THEM ? He had expected **sweet strawberries** but she was _unripe_ and as **BITTER** as they came. The idea of Negan doing anything to her— **WITH** her was something she didn't even want to imagine. Her body was _perhaps_ interested but her mind was made up – _or so she thought_. As soon as she got her chance, she'd **kill** them and be **DONE** with it.

"An' _**you**_ , Missy, are the _pudding_."

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too intense for me wowowow let me know what you guys thought, feedback is much appreciated !


	2. Like a Bird in a Cage

I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this so far, I hope it only gets better really, fingers crossed. Anyway, a shorter chapter here, but it's slow build. someone asked about a faceclaim I think for Jay ? I'm going for Carlson Young if you need an idea of her image. I hope you guys like this chapter !

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 **CLANK**. Metal against metal. _ECHOED_. Was she in a **cave** ? It sounded that way. The air was cold but no way _near_ as bitter as she _remembered_. Her head lolled against her chest lazily and there was no **bag** on her head anymore, she noticed. Only her droopy eyelids restricted her sight right now. BLINK. Her vision was _blurred_. She blinked a few more times, allowing her vision to adjust to the lighting. Wrists instinctively lifted to rub palms against her eyes but she **clanked** to a _stop_. She looked down, squinting at the _handcuffs_ that kept both hands **secured** against— _chair arms_ ? How had she gotten **there** ?

Pudding. The word repeated in her head a few times before a _different_ voice entered her thoughts and she shivered. **Negan**. Everything came rushing back to her, the SQUELCH and CRACK as skull and flesh was battered – beaten to a pulp. Skin _crawled_ , limbs tingled and—her stomach snarled ? **Hunger**. It was a concept she'd forgotten about – _**eating**_. She hadn't consumed food in _quite_ some time and she was sure it had made her pass out in the back of Negan's truck. But then the idea of being moved here _by_ someone – maybe even Negan – made her **grimace**. What if he'd— _touched_ her ? Skin to skin, the idea making her quiver. _DISGUSTING_. Especially after the way those hands had touched Lucille.

A kick of her legs promised **freedom** at least for her lower half. That was a mistake – on _their_ part. But she wouldn't try to escape, not **yet** at least. If they caught her ? She didn't want to _know_. To even _think_ about it.

KNOCK – _KNOCK_ – **KNOCK**

Jay flinched at the noise that _vibrated_ through the place. It must've been some kind of warehouse, the size making her feel almost mouse-like. Small. _WEAK_.

"Rise 'n' _shine_ , Sweet'eart. Gotta get some **grub** in ya." It was Negan, she was _sure_ of it. The door screamed as it was opened, chains apparently a part of the mechanics as she could hear them _trailing_ across concrete flooring. More light flooded the room and she had to turn her head to be able to only see the _silhouette_ of Negan's figure against the vicious light that seemed to threaten blinding. Jay switched her gaze back to the floor, scowling at the sound of his boots – closer, **CLOSER** – until he was right _in front_ of her. **Well** , with enough distance to _prevent_ being kicked which she internally grumbled at. CLEVER. Negan was clearly a man who thought ahead. Really, it was _common sense_.

Don't stand in front of a woman you just **kidnapped**.

The lift in her gaze allowed her to see that he was holding a small tray of food and the sound that gurgled from her stomach had her momentarily _question_ whether she was _alive_ or **UNDEAD**. "How long has it been since you _ate_ ?" If Jay was _delirious_ she would've said she thought she heard _concern_ in his tone.

She didn't respond. Why **should** she ? After what _he'd_ done, the offering of food was the least he could do.

. Tired of her shit _already_ ? Then let her go. "You're **pissed**."

Oh- _ho_ - _ **HO**_ , and the _award_ for most **OBVIOUS** STATEMENT OF THE _YEAR_ goes to—

"No **shit** ," she spat back. Fawn hues glared up at him, eye contact only breaking when she felt too exposed by his never-ending stare. It made her feel _vulnerable_ and that was his _talent_. But she wouldn't be broken. Not that _easily_.

" _Jay_." Her name sounds foreign from his lips. How **DARE** he say her name.

"I don't _want_ your _shitty_ food—"

"I don't give a flying **FUCK** what you _WANT_ —" It was quiet as he _reconsidered_ his approach. "—you **need** it. _Doc_ said—"

"Ten outta ten **HOSPITALITY** , _by the way_ ," She remarked.

"—What ?"

"The handcuffs, the chained door, I feel real **cosy**. Y' even gave me a seat. I'm sure ya had _great_ fun gropin' me whilst y' tried t' get me **IN** it, an' I'm real _glad_ but—"

There was a crash as he dropped the tray to the floor and she forced her lips to seal _straight away_.

"I don't know what kinda SHITTY **pricks** you've _dealt_ with ? But I'm a motherfuckin' _gentleman_. I like my ladies, **damn** fuckin' _straight_ but I don't **do** _that_ _shit_. Sure as hell I WANNA, but I _**wouldn't**_ unless _you_ said it was OKAY. I'm gonna make _that_ fuckin' CRYSTAL _right_ from the _BEGINNIN'_. I'm _shitty_ , but I ain't THAT shitty."

"A _gentleman_ ? Is **that** what y' _think_ y' are ?"

"I have _standards_ , Doll."

She pursed her lips – frustrated. "Why am **I** here ?"

Negan lowered himself, just enough to pick up a slice of bread from the tray. It had been buttered and the mere _smell_ had _drool_ gathering in her mouth. It had been so long since she'd tasted _butter_. But it was from **Negan**. She couldn't eat _that_ , _**right**_ ? That was—DEFEAT. _Submitting_.  
He stepped closer, manoeuvring around the chair so that he was by her _side_ – the slice in his hand. "Open y'r mouth—"

Jay grimaced. "I bet y' say that t' _all_ the ladies."

There was a laugh. "Except it's a whole ' _nother_ kinda BREAD **I'm** feedin' 'em." A beat of silence and **shit** was it awkward. "I'm _serious_. Open or **I'll** fuckin' eat it."

 _Frown_. She scowled at him. "I **told** y'. I don't want your _SHIT_."

He gritted his teeth, watching her for a moment before he growled his impatience. "How long you plannin' on keepin' up the STRONG, INDEPENDENT WHITE WOMAN act, _huh_ ? I'm fuckin' **stood** _here_ , _wastin'_ my **time** , _offerin'_ you our **fuckin'** food an' _you_ wanna play the **PISSY** lil' _PRINCESS_ ?"

She hadn't _asked_ for their food, nor had she **asked** for his _company_ , _**or**_ his _time_. She was fucking **KIDNAPPED**. What did he _expect_ from her ? " _I_. _Don't want_. _Your_ **shit** ," she repeated through bared teeth, pronouncing every word.

The bread was _tossed_ to the ground and he laughed. "Fuckin' _fine_ , Doll." He snatched the items from the ground. What _had_ been presented _nicely_ upon the tray was now a mess as he **stormed** over to the large door. "Don't want my SHIT ? Fuckin' _**starve**_ then." And just like that, Negan was gone, the door screaming shut before slamming. The sound of chains being locked cracked from outside and then she could hear boots leaving until she knew it was **JUST** her.

Brows furrowed into a frown and she exhaled heavily. Right now, Negan was her _only_ chance at survival. She hated to _admit_ it, but it was _true_. Only he could get her out of the _handcuffs_ and UP from the chair. Only he could _ease_ the _ever-growing_ **hunger** that seemed to be eating _her_ from the _**inside**_ _ **out**_.

Brown hues blinked a few times before she felt her eyes were heavy, drifting shut. Tighter and tighter until she felt herself _**slip**_.

* * *

"GOCTHA—"

Her hands flew out to _grip_ at James' arms, the ones that wrapped around **her** – stopping her from hitting her head against the ground. She _stumbled_ to her feet and shoved him.

"Oh no _you're_ welcome—"

" **I** could've _handled_ that," She sneered. " _Thanks_ …" It was grumbled, under her breath of course but James heard it and grinned at her.

" _Ah_ yeah it _really_ looked like you had it _covered_. Just like your _brains_ would'a **covered** the floor if **I** hadn't'a _caught_ ya." DEATH GLARE at James and he laughed in response. "Careful. That look might just _kill_ me **one** day."

"Y' mean not _t'day_ ? **Damn**. Guess I gotta keep **tryin'** —" Jay hummed, winking at him.

James rolled his eyes, stepping over to a nearby counter. Hands reached up to the cupboard above him, opening the doors wide. "Would y' look at _that_ ! They've got _your_ **food** , Jay !"

Her fawn gaze lifted, looking to the items inside the cupboard and she laughed. " _Wow_ , REAL **mature**." She strolled closer, taking one of the jars in her palm to look at it in the light. It was a paste, a mixture of broccoli, carrot and potato – aka _**BABY FOOD**_. A frown clipped soft lips only for a moment at the idea of babies. Sure, she'd never really _been_ one for **KIDS** , especially _since_ the _apocalypse_ , but the idea of _miniature zombies_ crawling around – babies suffering, being _eaten alive_ it just – **no** one deserved that. Not even annoying, _screeching_ fetus looking things.

"You _okay_ ?" James raised a brow.

Jay placed the jar back on the counter and nodded. "Yeah. Just—thinkin' about how fuckin' **gross** this shit probably _tastes_."

He gave a laugh. "Ya ever **tried** it ?"

Eyes squinted. "What'a'ya _thinkin'_ Jim Jam ?"

James then picked the jar back up and **unscrewed** the lid – a smirk gracing his lips. "First one t' **gag** _loses_."

Jay grimaced. "Y' fuckin' for _**real**_ man ? Ah, _gross_. **Deal** , but GROSS. What's the prize ?"

"Prize ?"

"Yeah _c'mon_ , there's gotta be a _reward_ 'a some kind !"

"I'll think'a one."

She looked him in the eye, her gaze challenging as she smirked. "Better be fuckin' _**worth**_ it."

"I'll go _first_ ," He stated, scooping his finger into the paste before bringing it to his lips.

"What'a _gentleman_ ," Jay huffed.

His expression remained _**neutral**_ , showing **NO** disgust as he _swallowed_ the mix. " **Your** turn."

Jay scowled, using her index finger to scoop her own portion of paste before flicking her tongue out to lick it off, sucking innocently at the digit.

James watched with _wide_ eyes, his breathing becoming heavier – _she noticed_ – at the sight. The way Jay sucked her finger into pursed lips, tongue massaging pale skin as she licked up and _swallowed_ the paste. Her gaze flicked to his own and their eyes met as she allowed the digit to **pop** from her mouth.

"Like a _pro_ ," she tilted her chin upwards.

He was _swift_ to pick up more at the tip of his finger, **quickly** pressing it to his own lips - scrunching his face up as he _gagged_. Before he could **speak** , Jay _pointed_ at him grinning. "You **lost** ! _You_ gagged !"

"Guess y' _right_ …" He sighed.

"Damn fuckin' **straight** I _am_. So, what's my _prize_ , Jam ?"

Green eyes admired her expression for a moment, _loving_ the way her porcelain skin shined against the light and the way fawn hues grew with her **excitement**. It was _rare_ to see Jay happy, **rare** but _always_ BEAUTIFUL. Brows furrowed into **concentration** and a hand came up to hold her jaw, closing the distance between them as he leaned in. Then, their lips _touched_ – time stopping.

Jay gasped into the kiss, closing her eyes before pressing **closer**. James pulled back, only for a _second_ to test the waters before Jay growled. "Fuckin' **kiss** me y' jerk," then she _tugged_ him against her body, their kiss igniting again. It had been so long since she'd **felt** something. Felt her heart skip a beat. It was so _good_. It was **so** damn pure and she _lived_ for every **second** of it.

After what seemed like an _eternity_ of heated breath, **dominating** tongues and _desperate_ friction, they both parted for air. She met his gaze once more and smiled.

"Y' think _**that's**_ a good enough _reward_ ?"

James gave a breathy laugh. "You're so _perfect_ , y'know that ?"

" **Soppy** ," she remarked with a smirk. "Real fuckin' _soppy_ , James."

There's a moment of no words as they both chuckle _breathlessly_. He looked to her and she looked to him, their gaze meeting a second time as he brushed a hand to her thigh – testing the waters like he'd done before, giving her a chance _to push him away_. But she **didn't**. In fact, her _own_ hand gripped his and she pressed his warm palm to her inner thigh, lips curving as she nodded her **consent**.

James started to _advance_ and she felt bliss grind against her when suddenly something snarled and all warmth had evaporated, her blood running _cold_ as a small, **MANGLED** kid _heaved_ itself towards them, it's only limb – _a right arm_ – gripping at the floor as it crawled closer. GURGLING. **Spluttering blood** from _chewed_ up lips. Next, her vision blurred, only _clearing_ when she was on her knees _beside_ the child, her hands upon the hilt of her blade which was now planted **into** the zombie's skull as it struggled to a **stop** – _silent_. Tears brimmed and she had to swallow back down her vomit as she took in _what she'd just done_. "Oh _jesus_ **fuck** —"

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" _Wake up_ , Doll. We gotta fuckin' **talk**."

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So I took on the bold, italic and capitals feedback as some liked it, some didn't, so I compromised. I admit I got way too invested in the first chapter haha. Let me know what you thought ! I'm psyched to see what happens next xD


	3. Kneeling on Rocks

Sorry this took a while to upload. I wrote this chapter ages ago but I was nervous to put it up. I hope you guys enjoy, please leave reviews !

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INHALE. Holding her breath again – almost like her body wanted her to suffocate. Quenching her lung's thirst for oxygen, lips parted to inhale. Fawn hues were wild, pots and pans crashing together inside her head like a morning alarm.

DING DING DING DING DING DING DING

"I'm comin' I'm comin'—" Jay slung her bag over her shoulder before turning the door handle. She opened it, face to face with a breathless James. "What's with all the fuckin' noise ?"

"Have y'—even seen—the time ? We're gonna miss—the fuckin' bus Jay, get your shit let's go—"

Jay lifted her wrist to glance at the watch wrapped around it – leather black strap, golden face. Two minutes until the bus **left** and it was a _five_ minute walk. Oh.

"Why the fuck are y' so late ?" She gasped, slipping her sneakers on before James had her by the wrist, yanking her out of the door. Jay just managed to catch the handle, slamming it behind her before they were running.

"Overslept !" James replied, his grip tight.

 _Run, run, run as fast as you can –_

"There it is !" James released his grip on Jay's arm, sprinting ahead. For a moment she thought he'd lesave her there, but he managed to reach the bus just in time, banging his palm against the door's window. "Whoa, whoa— man c'mon please open the door !"

And just like magic, the door flew open. "C'mon kid I ain't got all day—" The bus driver grumbled, ushering James on. Jay managed to catch up, stepping into the vehicle, lungs **heaving**.

Then his grip was on her wrist again as they walked to the back of the bus – to the only seats available. AVAILABLE because the back was reserved for the Black Jacks. The bullies of Jay's childhood. Teen hood. _Every_ hood, really. The name didn't actually mean anything, it just sounded intimidating and boy were they. Frankie, who went by Kie, was the "leader" – his group of asshole narcissists following his every move. He had some kind of vicious addiction to Jay, whether it was a crush or an obsessive need to hurt and humiliate she didn't know. Whatever it was, it made her his main victim. The group would sit in their seats, sometimes taking up more than one, their legs resting on the chairs in front of them, leather jackets all matching like something out of GREASE. It was laughable, really, their morals certainly questionable. Perhaps it was just the thrill of having **power** over people. They worked up a reputation, that was for sure, physical beatings becoming more and more to people who stepped over the line. Whatever and wherever this line was.

Weary, Jay made her way down the path, nearing a seat when suddenly she was _airborne_ , eyes wide before she face planted. Laughter filled her ears, humiliation painted on her cheeks as she rose and took a seat – arms holding herself from the world around her. James had only just realised what had happened, distracted by everything else. He helped Jay across to her seat, placing himself beside her. "Shit Jay, you okay ?" It was a stupid question and she shook her head in honesty. No, she wasn't. _At all_.

"Need t' look where y' goin' Baby—" Kie's voice could be heard through all the noise. "Put those pretty eyes t' use, huh ? Or those _lips_ —"

"Shut the **fuck** up !" Jay snapped back, fawn hues now burning as she glared at the other. Eighteen years old, did she seriously have to put up with this ?

"Or what ?" One of his followers challenged.

Jay didn't respond, mostly due to James' uttering of the word "don't," in her ear.

The bus ride was long and so was the day, every lesson a drag. She didn't have many friends, but she had plenty of enemies – for no reason, either. Jay was a good kid. Friendly, helpful, positive—perhaps it was just the consistent abuse of willing to give that numbed her eventually, reducing her to cold glares and snappy responses, her aim always to bite hands off first and question intentions later.

It was the final DING of the bell that brought relief. Home time. _Alone_ time. Freedom. The one thing she strived for—

DING. DING. DING—

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

Pots and pans. Metal against concrete. That was the real noise. Feet struggled but she was tied for good now, wrists and ankles both denied freedom by the bonds that restricted her movement. There was a chair in front of her – metal framing suggesting this was the sound of pots and pans as it had been dragged and placed during her sleep. Waking her up from – nightmares ? She was used to them by now, but lately it had been things that had actually happened to her. Memories that refused to be repressed. Had she drifted again ? Because she opened her eyes again but this time someone was sat in the seat. She struggled against the bonds, baring her teeth like a threatened animal.

Negan sat opposite her, closer than he'd been before thanks to her _legs_ now being tied. He leaned back in the seat, eyes trailing over her burning skin. "You're gonna hurt yourself," he warned, tawny gaze looking to her bound wrists and as if his eyes had set fire to her skin she could feel sharp pains pricking. She looked down to her wrists, noting how the rope securing her had started to cut into the skin, red dripping down porcelain. Immediately, she stilled, frowning. Negan reached into his jacket pocket, pulling a tissue from the unknown before leaning closer. He moved to press the material to Jay's wound but she flinched and he looked to her. "I'm not gonna hurt y'."

"I trust you," she whispered. His eyes widened only vaguely, lips parting in surprise at her words. And just when he looked like he was about to respond, she SNAPPED. "—as fuckin' if. Lay a fuckin' finger on me. I dare y'." Hard eyes, confidence fuelled by gut wrenching fear.

Negan watched her, un-phased by her words as his lips curved into a smirk. "I was gonna _ask_ if you'd hit y'r head." Laugh. He laughed before dabbing at her wound – the tissue absorbing blood like spilled ink. "How're you feelin' ?"

What ? The last time he'd spoken to her, he'd told her to STARVE. Now this ? Was it another dream ? Nightmare ? Negan could so easily become a part of both and the thought made her stomach churn. "The hell d' y' think ?"

Huh. The sound slipped past his lips as he sat back again, tucking the tissue under the bond. "Don't throw that shit in my face. I offered y' food. Offered y' a bunch'a my shit but no you can handle y'rself just fine."

Don't show weakness. Jay glared at him. "Why am I here ?" She's asked him already but he never responded. Never told her what vile things he hoped to do to her. _With_ her.

There's a silence that creeps through the cold air as he looks at her. Admiring ? Imagining himself throttling her ? She couldn't decipher it. "I like you." He paused. "You're real fuckin' spunky, doll." Was she relieved to know he didn't HATE her ? Didn't want to torture her ? Was she relieved to know he LIKED her ? Part of her was, felt dizzy at the idea of Negan wanting to get his hands on her— stop this. Lips tightened.

"Ladies like _you_ have gotta be preserved. What kinda gentleman would I be – leavin' you out there with those _pussies_ ? What kinda protection can they offer you ? Fuckin' nothin' an' you know it. Don't try an' justify it. I can keep you safe. Give you what you want – what you need. I can look after you—"

"I don't need ya nor do I fuckin' want ya. The only thing I want from y' is for you t' get the fuck away from me."

"What are they to you ? Rick an' the Pricks. Go ahead, you can tell me."

A brow is arched in question. Why did he want to know ? "As if I'm gonna tell you shit."

"C'mon Doll. We've gotta build some trust, you an' me."

"You're hilarious."

"You're beautiful."

Quick. It's too quick for her to deflect and her expression exposes her shock. SURPRISE. She hadn't been complimented in— _so long_. She didn't know how long but it had been quite some time. Eyes blink fast and she feels her skin burning under his gaze again. "That step one ?"

"You suggestin' I have a plan ?"

"Guys like you always do. Get a girl, flirt a little, get 'em in bed, fuck 'em an' then y' let 'em go."

"Like a bird in a cage."

The bird reference sends a shiver down her spine. "Y' just like the rest of 'em."

"On the contrary, Doll, you're jumpin' to some mighty conclusions. How about you bite your tongue and get t' know me first."

"An' why would I wanna do that ?"

"I'm not planning on opening your cage just yet, Jay."

Is that a threat ? Why did he want her around ? Was this the torture ? Confuse her emotions – break down her walls and then throw her into the wild expecting her to just find her way ? "An' if I escape ?"

He laughed again. "You can go right ahead an' fuckin' try."

Jay hadn't actually seen the inside of the compound yet. She had no idea how big it was, how many people were within it—how well fenced it was. She'd been stuck in this box for fuck knows how many days. She'd lost track of time – along with her thirst and hunger. The idea of food caused her stomach to howl again, her face scrunching up at the sound. WEAKNESS.

Negan gave her a knowing look. "What can I do t' make you feel more—welcome ? More at home."

Now it was her turn to laugh. And laugh – and LAUGH. Perhaps it was the dehydration – she didn't know but she found it hilarious. LUDACRIS. "Let me go back."

"Not gonna happen, Doll."

Teeth bare. Frustration. "Fuck you if y' think I'm fuckin' stayin' here."

A hand ran down salt and pepper facial hair. "You'll come around. They always do, Baby Girl."

Bile threatened to rise again, although she didn't know whether it was the way her body trembled at those words with his voice or— nope. That was why. Except there was nothing in her stomach, meaning she'd just gag – and she did.

His expression creased to a grimace before concern starts to show, a hand reaching for her shoulder before she is stuck to the back of her chair, sitting as far away from the hand as possible. "Don't fuckin' touch me !" SNARL. The tiger was baring her teeth. The movement, however, had caused a shift inside and the overwhelming need to release her fluids made her whimper and now Negan was staring – entranced by the sound that slipped from pale lips.

"What's wrong ?"

"Nothing," she hissed. Even her subconscious was whispering now. You need to ask. Need to tell him. How embarrassing would it be ? Wetting yourself in front of him like a BABY. Ask him.

"If you say so—"

"I—" Jay's brows furrowed as she stared at the floor. She could feel him watching her expectantly – awaiting her words. "—bathroom." The way she whispered made her sound so ashamed.

"You're gonna have t' speak up, Doll."

Was he serious ? Dammit. An eye roll and she was staring him down. "I need to piss. Really bad. If you're a real gentleman then untie me—"

Amusement ripped across his face like a hurricane and she feels embarrassment shade her cheeks. "Sure. Y' just gotta say one word—"

Desperation surged through her, lips parting to speak before she has time to filter her own thoughts. "PLEASE—" Whatever. It was now or never. She couldn't waste any more time – her bladder was literally dying.

Lips curved into a grin. Pushing himself up from the chair, Negan untied her wrists from the arms of the seat before tying them together. Jay's brows raised. "What the fuck ?"

"Safety first." He knew she'd try to escape. He'd thought ten steps ahead and beyond by now. If she escaped, she could bring serious danger to his people and there was no way he'd risk that shit. Next, her ankles were untied, freedom to both limbs as she jumped to her feet. Regret immediately consumed her as she stumbled to the left, almost face planting the floor before Negan caught her. "That was fuckin' stupid. D' you have any idea how long you've been sat down for ?"

No response – only a GROWL.

He placed a hand around her bicep, leading her to the door – slowly. Respectfully. She was surprised, to say the least. He took his time manoeuvring her through the door, acknowledging that she'd be weak and shit had she underestimated how fine she _was_. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, body exhausted after a few steps – the world spinning. She couldn't allow herself to succumb to weakness. Not in front of Negan. STRONG. INDEPENDENT. Did she even believe that anymore ?

"You okay, Doll ?" Checking up on her as they walked.

"Fine."

"Bullshit," He challenged.

"You'd know."

"The fuck's that supposed t' mean ?"

Pause. "Y' know y' ain't livin' in some kinda fairy tale, right ?"

"Is that a fuckin' serious question ?

She glanced around. It seemed so abandoned. This area, at least. Maybe there weren't that many people after all ? The fresh air washed over hot skin and she inhaled heavily – so good. Drawn from her thoughts, she was halted by his rough grip around her arm and the fact that her limb could fit within his palm made her feel vulnerable. _He_ had control – and her body needed to stop giving her thoughts.

"Here," he grunted.

"What ?"

"You said you needed a piss. So piss here," He pointed to the ground. What, was she fucking DOG now ?

"But I—"

"What, you thought you'd get the pleasure of pissin' in an actual toilet ?"

More humiliation.

"Someday, Doll. Someday. Now hurry up."

She bit the inside of her cheek. Don't say something you'll regret. Fawn orbs gazed down at bound wrists, the idea of trying to pull down her belted pants with tied hands causing her to blush. She might trip or stumble or— "How am I—supposed to—?"

Innocence. It's so pure and Negan looks at her almost sympathetically. "Need a hand ?"

She died inside, she was sure of it. Her insides cringed at the situation— brain screaming. "What !? I— no I— d-do, yes—"

Negan was swiftly by her side, hands moving to undo her belt. "Want me t' spank you too ?" It's a joke, but she doesn't take it as such. Legs quivered and she wanted to collapse right there and then. Her heart threatened to explode, nerves making her tense and of course he noticed.

"Relax Doll—"

Too stunned to reply, Jay just glared at the floor as she heard the zip on her pants go. They fell to the floor and the breeze sliced into skinny, bare legs. They gave way to the sudden cold and she felt herself drop, Negan's arms wrapping around her. "Fuck Jay—" Genuine concern. "I got you." He stood her upright, letting her lean against him as hands pulled her underwear down, his gaze directed elsewhere.

"You're lookin' away—" She observed tiredly.

"Gentleman," he hummed, helping her squat.

She was lowered to the floor, crouching in his grip. She would fight him for it later – for helping her. For caring for her … This was so fucked up. Her bladder relaxed and a sigh left her, fluids emptied with relief.

"Better ?"

Cheeks turned red and she scowled, no response. Her underwear was pulled back up, along with her pants – her belt was re-buckled, zip pulled up but his grip remained on her. She found herself trying to walk away, tugging weakly from his grip and he actually let her go. Surprised by the release, she turned around to question when suddenly she was pressed to the wall of the warehouse, hands pinned above her head. "What the fuck—"

Negan's face was right there, his breath hot against her skin. His gaze was predatory, watching every change in her expression as she could only gasp – his body pressing into hers. Fawn eyes looked up, confused fear tripping her every thought. He grinned at her. "Somethin' about you, Doll— right from the beginnin', that look you give me. It's fuckin' fire an' it hits me right in the goddamn balls. Not even my _wives_ can do that—"

Wait—wive _ **s**_ ? Another question to add to the ever growing list.

"S-stop—" She stuttered. "I don't—want this—"

He laughed. "Bullshit. It's written all over your fuckin' face, Baby Girl. You're tryin'a tell me that if I were t' finger that pretty little kitten'a yours, you wouldn't _beg_ me – harder, faster ?"

So confident. Too confident. She couldn't let him _win_ like this. She couldn't succumb to his words that he'd undoubtedly used upon a thousand women. This MURDERER. This MONSTER. He wouldn't win. She'd felt enough embarrassment for the next damn decade. It was _his_ turn. "Please—"

"Please what ?"

She didn't know. Her body was currently betraying her, desperate for the touch, not a care in the world who's touch it was. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. "—touch me—" it was a shameful whisper, lips pursed, head tilted as she tried to grip at his wrists. An act, or so she told herself – refusing to release the last of her dignity.

Something animalistic surged within his wild eyes, grip tightening as he adjusted, one hand now wrapped around both wrists, the other skilfully drifting down her torso and to her thighs. It caressed the covered skin, rolling down her inner thigh before he was reaching past her belt, into her pants. This was actually happening. The man that had crushed the skulls of two of her friends. Her FAMILY. The angered pushed her on, whimpers bleeding from her lips. "Please Negan—"

He cupped her, one finger rubbing at her clit, slowly unwiring her. Legs went slack, weak body shivering at the touch that made her want to call out her pleasure but once again it was overridden by self-disgust. The touch kept going, getting more intense as his face got closer to hers, a kiss threatening parted lips as he nipped at her jaw. She was right. This really was all he wanted. To fuck her, to _claim_ her. Then leave her. Abuse her emotions like she was nothing but a toy.

COLD. The touch was gone, fawn hues wide as she was lowered to her feet, wrists released so that they dropped by her sides. The grin that stretched across Negan's face was a mixture of handsome and psychotic. Why was handsome even there ? She felt sick. "Stew on that, blue fuckin' balls or whatever you ladies call it. Take it as punishment for bein' a little shit. You know, if I wasn't so fuckin' into you I'd kill you. Just keep that in your pretty little head, alright ? Stop actin' like some kinda fuckin' princess."

She'd planned to stop it. Had she ? Yes. Just— a little longer. He got there _before_ her. That was it. Maybe. She could still win this.

"Oh—and I think we just proved how easy you are t' get on your fuckin' knees for me."

Done. He'd crossed the line. He stepped back from her but she was quick to react, a leg swinging out so that she kicked the back of _his_ which caused his knee to buckle. He started to fall but stopped himself, so she kicked into his shin, sending him to the floor with a thump. Then, she was on top of him, straddling his hips like a saddle – gaze but daggers as she glared at him. "Your touch doesn't mean shit, Asshole. I'm just _desperate_ , 'n' you're the only fuckin' one around. Oh, an' I think I just proved how easy it is t' get ya at my fuckin' FEET. Now I'm gonna ask that y' don't ever underestimate me, or I will walk the fuck all over y'. I don't belong t' you, or anyone else, an' I certainly don't give a fuck about you _or_ ya tiny dick."

POWER. She's shocked by her own confidence and it seemed Negan was too, his gaze wide with awe. Lust. She noticed the heat in his stare – the excitement. A game. He gripped at her hips and grunted. "You aren't kneelin' on fuckin' rocks down there, Sweet'eart. Can you get off my dick ?"

Jay growled, stepping away from his body, rising to her full height. Negan did the same, except he only seemed to _keep_ rising. A hand gripped at her bicep again and she was pulled roughly back into the warehouse. Her ass was once again in the seat, ankles tied to the chair along with her wrists. Negan rubbed his hands together, admiring his work before his attention turned to the radio on his hip.

"Negan—" it crackled.

Grunt. He unclipped it from his belt and brought it to his lips. "Go ahead—"

" _Four_ took a walk. He's by the motorcycles, makin' a move. What do you want us t' do, Sir ?"

Four ? Was that some moors code shit ?

Negan bared his teeth. "Fuck dammit. Surround him. I'm on my way."

The radio was clipped back onto his belt, gaze flicking to Jay quickly. "I've gotta go, Doll. I'll be back in a little while, but in the meantime, think about what just happened, an' what can still happen. I know my dick's fuckin' solid for you. How about yours ?" He made his way over to the door, giving a wink. "You'll come around, Doll. An' when you do, an' trust me, you will, I'll make sure you don't regret it." Then, he's gone, door slammed and she's alone again.

 _Think about what just happened, and what can still happen_.

She couldn't **stop** – thoughts racing like a storm inside her head.

Screaming – laughing – moaning.

She couldn't take it anymore. Struggle. Tug. Rip. Yank. Freedom. Her wrists were freed as the rope fell to the floor. Hands urgently untied the rope around her ankles and she forced herself to stand, waiting a moment before trying to walk again. Step after step she made her way to the door and wondered whether she'd come to regret leaving. _Escaping_. She had to try. STRONG. INDEPENDENT.

She pulled the door open, wincing at the daylight before stepping into it. Fresh air again. Avoiding the corner she'd gone to with Negan, she went the opposite direction – with no idea where she was going and no energy in her system. She only hoped this wasn't the way Negan had gone.

But what had hope done for her _so far_ ?


	4. Dead End

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please leave feedback or positivity it gives me motivation !

* * *

LAUGHTER. She could hear people laughing and it wasn't in her _head_. Walking through a wolf den, one against however damn many. The feeling of being watched, doors and windows creaking as she passed by. Fawn hues were wide, ears straining at every single little noise – wind or breath.

The ghost between her thighs promised _unfinished_ business but she forced herself to ignore the taunting emptiness compared to what she'd felt when Negan touched her core – mocked whatever dignity she had left. No one would know of how much she _craved_ him – craved his wicked touch and his hot breath against her, his voice cruel to sensitive ears…

 _Shut up just – stop it !_

Jay came to a corner and she pressed her back to the wall just as she would when watching for walkers. She inched closer to the edge, peering out and round. Just another empty space.

"Where the fuck's the _exit_ ?" She growled. Part of her – no – almost all of her knew it wouldn't be easily accessible or even possible to leave through, but there was something that pushed her to look anyway. The need to survive. To return to her people.

She wondered whether they missed her? Or whether Negan was right. Maybe they _did_ want to get rid of her. Maybe they couldn't stand her. Maybe they've wanted her gone for a while. Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe !

 _He's just trying to get inside your head, Jay._

The path before her was a lot more exposed than the one she'd just walked down, requiring stealth that she didn't think she could commit to in such a weak state. Yet, she still tried. Keeping to the shadows, she made her way down the path, stopping every few minutes when she thought she heard someone coming.

Her mind reflected over Negan's words.

 _Ladies like you have got to be preserved._

Preserved for what?

He'd also mentioned his wives, being plural. GREED. Wife. It was supposed to be someone you devoted yourself to. Protected and maintained a healthy relationship with. Not a collection of ladies to fuck when you want how you want. Clearly ideals were another thing forgotten during the apocalypse. As soon as legalities and laws disappeared from the table, people ran out of food so quickly they started to eat each other. Metaphorically **and** literally. Then again, you could shove the law into a walker's face as much as you liked – but nothing beneficial would come from it.

Exhaling, Jay reached another corner – although the sound of voices stopped her from pushing on.

"I am Negan," she heard someone say. This was followed by several more, repeating the same sentence. Were they mocking the man? Was it some weird ass acting club that only formed on walker Wednesdays? Humoured by her own thoughts, her lips curved very vaguely only for the smile to be wiped off like water from a window at the sound of his voice.

 **Negan's**.

Panic washed through her, fear flushing all hope out like a dog chasing a rabbit through the underground. Lips sealed as she peered around the corner, holding in any sounds she might accidentally emit at the sight of her nightmare.

He stood fairly close, back towards her as he spoke to someone she couldn't see – couldn't hear. A group surrounded them, mostly men. "I'm Negan," she heard one of them say again, brows raising. It was like some kind of _confession_ group. It was something she'd never seen before.

She couldn't overhear the conversation, but the raising of Lucille in Negan's grip had her gut tensing and body clenching into a cocoon. Nothing happened. Lucille was lowered and Negan turned, causing Jay to freeze. He'd hadn't spotted her yet, her eyes watching as he signalled something with his hand. Then the group started to close in on whoever Negan had been speaking to and when he was out of the way she could just about see their face and—

" _NO_!" So much for sealed lips. The scream left her before she'd even realised, still shocked at the sight of Daryl having the actual shit kicked out of him. It was now that Negan saw her, his eyes surprisingly wider than _hers_.

"How the fuck!?" He snarled, fumbling for his walkie. "Everyone fuckin' listenin', my Jay's taken a flight without fuckin' permission, so if you see her, just keep a hold of 'er until I get there, understood?" The walkie was clipped back onto his hip, tawny eyes locked onto her as if she were prey. Honestly, she couldn't find any reason for her not to be considered as such.

Sucking herself back out of view and against the wall, she could hear her heart pounding but Negan's oncoming footsteps were suddenly louder and she was running as fast as her weak legs could carry her.  
Without any idea where she was going, she concluded that going _inside_ was the worst idea. Negan probably knew every nook and cranny of this compound – it was simply a game of fox and the hound for him. A matter of time before he tracked her down like the _rodent_ she was, compared to the people living here. Her thoughts were interrupted when someone tackled her to the ground, grabbing her at her wrists in an attempt to pin her down. Jay couldn't define their facial features in time before she thrashed around beneath the form, kicking until she knocked them off of her. Scrambling to her feet, she could already feel cuts upon exposed knees – the breeze biting at her skin. People were _chasing_ her, trying to block her exists, her heart was thundering, blood roaring against her ears. She was swept up within a wave of pure adrenaline, concentration lacking which caused her to turn a corner – leading to a dead end.

It was a fence with barbed wire coating the top, reminding her of Lucille. She could climb the fence and probably rip her _stomach_ open, or she could wait to be beaten to death by the bat and its owner. Instead, she collapsed upon the ground, sobbing into her knees mainly due to how overwhelmed she was. Her chest heaved desperately to regain oxygen, conscience crawling towards her down the alley because she must've _lost_ it during the sprint.

She couldn't give up, but she wanted to. Her body begged her to. She couldn't take any more.

Her mind cast back to when she was with Rick and the group. Tara had told her "you've got a talent," one time after she'd made Carl laugh. She was funny, which in the past wasn't so hard, but nowadays, the ability to make someone laugh was hard to come by. She thought about _before_ the apocalypse. About how she'd felt when she danced on stage to classical music. She'd stopped telling people she used to do ballet, however. It was so graceful, so beautiful, many demanded her to do it what with having little access to anything else. Before she'd met Rick's group, she'd known men who had begged her to dance for them, and when she said no they became _aggressive_. Desperation, loneliness. They were two emotions that could bring a man to his end. She thought about James and how he'd left her. How he'd shut her away and then bolted. Abandoned her. After all they'd been through together. It wasn't _just_ men though. Nobody could be trusted anymore. Fear pushed people to do things. Pushed them _way_ over their limit.

She wondered whether Negan feared things. Whether he could even _feel_ fear. Pasts had been left behind, discarded like the things you couldn't fit in your luggage.

Only a matter of minutes had passed before Negan was turning the corner, his stroll leisurely as he came closer to her. "My, my, my ! You are just a motherfuckin' _hoot_ , aren't ya?"

She _would_ fight fire with fire, but Negan was fuelled with pure excitement and she was fuelled with gut-wrenching terror. Every move he made had Jay flinching, preparing to dodge and duck.

"C'mon Doll, don't embarrass me in front'a my people. We got a good thing goin' here an'—"

"You've already done that," Jay shot back. "Losin' a hostage, clearly ya didn't do a good enough job tyin' me up, otherwise I'd still be where ya left me."

His brows furrowed. " _Clearly_ you can't behave yourself for five fuckin' minutes. No wonder your group was so relaxed t' give you up," he goaded. "No please, do us a favour an' take her away she's a motherfuckin' _time bomb_." Lucille was swung within his grip, his fingers readjusting themselves before he looks Jay up and down. "I _like_ it and I like _you_."

She flinched again as a hand is offered to her. It's the same hand he'd touched her with earlier, the same fingers he caressed her fragile pride with – and oh how she wanted to rip them off. Jay took his wrist, refusing the warmth of his palm which had undoubtedly been pressed to many women's bodies. She was then pulled to her feet, legs aching even more than before, her knees throbbing.  
But this didn't stop her, no, her fight wasn't over yet.

Releasing Negan's wrist, she put all of her might into a **shove** to his side, but this time he's more prepared. A hand gripped at her shoulder, tearing the clothing a little as she tries to run again. She thrashed, kicking as close to his manhood as she possibly could and by the sound that ripped from Negan's lips? She'd _hit_ it.

Released, Jay sprinted down the alley and out into open space again. Claustrophobia had ceased and her brain was no longer on fire. Casting her gaze around, she spotted a large truck. Sure, she could do better, but Negan was actually coming after her and would round the corner any second so there was no time to waste.

GO, GO, GO!

Her conscience cheered her on as she made for the truck, throwing herself into the passenger seat. The windows were smashed, but she managed to manoeuvre her body just enough to stay out of sight. It would take someone to actually come up to the window and peer inside to see her which, _hopefully_ , no one would.

What felt like absolute chaos had gone silent, the outside world seemingly coming to a stop. She couldn't hear anyone speaking, no heavy breathing – only her own.

Were they searching for her ?

"Dwight," Negan was near, his voice cut straight through her like a knife. "Bring Daryl out here for a second." Was he talking through his walkie again?

There was a response, but she couldn't quite make it out. She was well aware of who Dwight was though. Remembered the scarring – hell, she didn't even want to _think_ about it.

" _Alright_. Now Daryl here, knows my little Jay, don't y' buddy? Yeah you two are real close. So seeing as you know more about 'er than me, maybe you can give me some insight on where Jay likes t' hide."

She grit her teeth. Daryl could've been _right_ outside for all she knew, but she couldn't expose herself – it would put them both at risk.

 _Don't hurt him you asshole –_

"No?" There was more silence. Was Daryl not going to speak? "Is she really worth that much t' you? I mean she's here, an' yet, she's not even interested in helping you. She's here for **me** , which is kinda ironic."

 _He's lying to you, Daryl, don't believe him!  
Motherfucker!_

"Well alright, if you're not gonna help out then I guess there's only one thing I can do."

It all sounded very overdramatic. Almost scripted ?

She was set on staying hidden until she heard the gunshot. Panic bit at her back and she wanted to cry out, concern flooding her thoughts whether Negan had done what she thought he'd done and whether peeping over the door would bring her to the sight of Daryl lying _dead_ on the floor.

It was too much. She was so overwhelmed, she just wanted to curl up and die now. She didn't deserve this, nor did she ask for it. First she'd lost James and now Daryl?

"STOP!" She screamed, readjusting her position on the seat so that her legs were crossed, elbows on her thighs. She pressed her face into her palms and sobbed, biting into her lip to distract her from the sorrowful anger swelling up within her. There was silence outside but all she could hear was the sound of her heart and her distress. The door opened beside her, allowing more light to pour in before something wrapped around her, pulling her from the truck. She struggled like prey being constricted by a boa, legs kicking and arms flailing. There was a commotion in the direction she'd heard the gunshot but she was too busy freaking out to pay attention – and she _didn't_ want to see Daryl's lifeless body.

Jay found herself being dragged and for several minutes she was fighting against the pull but her exhaustion was too much. She couldn't fight _forever_.

She was pressed to a wall, but which wall, she didn't know. Straight away she recognised her capturer as Negan, the facial hair and firelit eyes being the only features she needed. " **No**! No, no! Get— _off_ me!" Her voice was strained as she pushed against him with the little energy she had left. "You fuck—you _killed_ him! You—you killed him you **murderer**!" She screamed. "Just— get the fuck off—me—please!" She was sobbing again, falling more limp as each minute passed. Her hands curled into fists, ramming against his shoulders and chest.

Negan's grip only tightened, pinning her right into the wall. "Jay, Jay, Jay," he repeated, pressing his face against her neck, murmuring into her ear. The sound of his voice was soothing and she felt so tired. "It's okay, shh, c'mon Doll I'm not gonna hurt you okay, calm down just breathe, Jay, fuckin' calm down okay I know, I _understand_ , it's okay, I didn't—Daryl's—"

"You don't—understand—shit," Jay spat back. "Don't fuckin' talk—about him you're just fuckin'—disgusting an'—don't fuckin'— _touch_ me just—get the **fuck** off me!" Then something gripped her jaw, forcing her to look directly into Negan's eyes.

"Would you just fuckin' _listen_ and stop acting like a motherfuckin' looney? Calm the fuck down. I'm **not** gonna hurt you."

It was the same promises over and over again but his voice was so unclear now, the world starting to darken. Her stomach swirled, nausea threatening as acid burned the back of her throat. "I'm—not—I think I'm gonna—" But the darkness took her first and she felt so weightless, like a feather, floating into nothingness. 

* * *

"Wassup _Baby_ ," the scent of leather and overused cologne flooded her lungs to the point where she actually found herself choking. Arms appeared by both sides of her head, hands cementing themselves into the lockers behind her as a body stood solidly in the way of any escape. It was in fact Kie who stood before her, his crew in a surrounded circle as if they were watching animals at a zoo. Jay's hands pressed against the lockers near her hips, grounding herself. Reminding herself where she was. "No _skirt_ t'day huh? That one you wore yesterday was damn near _perfect_ , 'specially when you bent down t' pick those books up! Holy shit I saw right up there!"

She thought she'd be able to handle it. Thought she'd be able to take his words and move on with her day but he'd already stepped far over the line and one of her hands whipped up – slapping Kie across the cheek to make him aware of this. Shocked by her own actions, Jay took her chance to escape when Kie stepped back, shoving him out of the way before speed walking down the hall.

"You think you can do that shit an' fuckin' walk _away_ from me Baby? You think that's fuckin' okay?" Kie snarled, following her down the hall. "Shit if you weren't hot I'd probably—"

"—you'd fuckin' what?" Jay slammed on her breaks, turning sharply to face her pursuer. "Say it to my face, go right ahead," she challenged, stepping closer. People within the hall were starting to watch now as if it were a show and technically – it was, and she was the main event. Lips tightened as she squinted up at the male before her.

 _Fuck school_ – was her initial thought.  
She wouldn't let this asshole get away with what he was doing to her anymore. If it meant blowing her education just to get a good punch in, it'd be **worth** it.

There's clear thought rippling across Kie's face as he looks Jay up and down, fairly shocked himself that he was being confronted in front of all these people. As if he'd make himself look like even more of an asshole than everyone already thought he was. Exhaling, Kie stepped closer, a hand snaking up her neck and clasping at her jaw. He brought her close to him, their bodies touching as he nuzzled her ear. "C'mon Baby, let's not make a scene… I know you've got a lotta _tension_. I can help you out—" He purred, his other hand snaking over her hip and down her thigh, only to drift back up towards her core and when he made contact—

Jay launched herself at him, tackling him to the floor before throwing as many punches as she could to his face.

"Don't fuckin' _touch_ me! Fuck! You!" She cried out, tears streaming down porcelain cheeks but she refused to care. She felt nauseous. Her heart was pounding and Kie faded to red and that was all she could see, pure rage setting in. Her vulnerability had been exposed, self-defence kicking in as she lashed out at Kie again and again.

The next thing she remembered was _hands_. Lots of hands grabbing at her clothes – her arms and her shoulders, pulling and yanking in an attempt to get her off of Kie. They succeeded.

She was pulled back like a dog on a leash, shaking and shivering as blood dribbled from bruising knuckles.

But was it _hers_?

"Get that psycho bitch away from me!" Kie screamed, patting at his mess of a face as he was helped to his feet and walked away. "She's fuckin' crazy!"

If _crazy psycho bitch_ was what it meant to survive – to protect herself and stay strong, then that was **damn well** who she was.


End file.
